Liars' Club
by JDSampson
Summary: A vacation at the beach turns into a nightmare when Frank and Joe discover that one of their friends is willing to kill in order to expose a liar.
1. Chapter 1

**Hardy Boys: The Liars' Club **

**Chapter One:**

Frank Hardy threaded his way through the crowd of partiers, past the fire pit and as close to the water's edge as he could get without getting hit by a wave. He settled himself in the sand with the moon behind him then visually located his brother through all the hubbub. Joe had his guitar out and he was talking with his bandmates and then all eyes were on him the second he sang that first note.

It was still so intriguing to watch, to see how he captivated an audience with just a few words and a genuine smile. So far away from the gangly, shy boy who had first come to stay at the beach house ten years ago. Now he had grown into his skin. He was confident and open. He had a razor sharp wit and knack for making conversation. Girl or guy, young or old, stranger or friend – Joe could and did talk to anyone and everyone.

It was a talent Frank sometimes envied. Oh sure, he could hold his own at a party but people didn't gravitate toward him, the way they gravitated toward Joe. Like now. Everyone at the beach was looking his way; Rudy, the first timer who had never seen the ocean before, Liz who lived at the beach year round, her roommates and the couple from London on their first visit to the states. Most of the others were summer pals. Regulars who rented the same beach houses the same two weeks in July year after year. Frank knew a little about each of them but he didn't know any of them well.

They were all dancing and clapping and enjoying the sight of Joe putting on a show. Frank would never admit it out loud, but he was proud of his little brother and that's what he was thinking when Barbie Banning fell into his lap. Literally.

"I am such a klutz!" She struggled as if to extradite herself from him but it was clearly an excuse to put her hands where they didn't belong. She twisted sideways mashing her chest against his and her hand grabbed hold in a way that made him gasp sharply under his breath.

"Barbie, I'd like to keep that if you don't mind."

She pushed out her rosy lower lip and tipped her head forward so they were nose to nose. "I was kind of hoping you'd share it with me."

Before he could formulate an answer, someone else beat him to it.

"Excuse me, sweetie, but you're parked in my spot."

Frank tipped his head back and saw a shark's smile on the face of one very lovely lady. Ryan Canuso filled out a bikini better than any of the other girls on the beach. She was tall, tan and with a mane of golden brown hair that Frank could get lost in - had gotten lost in, a dozen times since he'd met her a week ago.

"I was just keeping you spot warm," said Barbie as she accepted Ryan's offer of a hand up.

"Not necessary. After an hour with me, he's warm for the rest of the night."

Frank shivered and it wasn't because of the cool ocean breeze. Ryan extended her hand to him. "Up."

"Yes, m'am." He took her hand but his own legs did most of the work. As soon as he was vertical, she slipped into his arms and kissed him on the lips. A small gesture, but it set him off like a match on a strike strip.

Joe and the band slowed the tempo just then with a sultry version of "Under the Boardwalk" and Frank made a mental note to thank his brother later. Right now he was enjoying the feel of Ryan swaying against him in time with the music. They moved away from the crowd and the fire, half dancing and half just caught up in the friction between them. Frank buried his face in her hair, so soft and silky and smelling like fruit and sea air. The skin at her neck smelled of coco butter and tasted like a sweet dessert. He kissed her throat, scrapped his teeth over her ear, then their mouths met and it was as if they were starving for each other.

Frank's promise to stay and listen to Joe sing flew away like a startled seagull when she whispered in his ear, "Let's find someplace more private."

It took every ounce of strength he had to step back from her but knowing where this was going made it all right. He took her by the hand and led her down the beach toward the rocks and the pier. The fast walk became a run and soon the sounds of the music and the party were washed away by the sound of the ocean.

They had to step into an incoming wave in order to skirt a rocky barrier and then they were under the protection of the pier. It was darker than Frank would have liked under there. He wished there was more moon so he could see her as he made love to her, but there was less chance of being interrupted here than on the open beach.

"Perfect," Ryan whispered, then shed the thin cover-up she wore over her bathing suit. She pulled off Frank's t-shirt leaving him with just his swim trunks, but the way he was feeling he knew those would soon be gone, too. He dropped to his knees in the cool sand and brought her to him with his hands on her hips. His lips were in line with the low rise of her bikini bottom and he kissed her there revealing in how close he was to what he wanted.

She moaned and thrust her hips into him as her fingers knotted in his hair. She had control of him with that, keeping his face to her when he attempted to lean back. "Not yet." And she might have meant it to sound like an order but it came out all breathy, and needy and wanton.

The ache in his belly was approaching unbearable, but he wasn't ready for it to end, even if she said let's go right now. Better to make it last. Better to draw it out until he thought he'd go mad from her touch.

He sat back on his heels and she loosened her hold to allow it. His lips left hot marks along her inner thigh and soon she was shaking too hard to stay standing. She collapsed into him and they both fell back into the sand.

"So beautiful," Frank murmured between kisses. "I want you so much I can't think straight."

"Don't think, just do. No stopping this time."

That was music to ears but there was one little problem. "We can't. Not here. I don't have any protection on me."

"Doesn't matter." Her hand closed over him to make it clear. "I'm on the pill. It's fine. Please. I want you to make love to me."

And that was all the permission he needed. He got her out of her bathing suit bottom with one hand, then she did most of the work on his swim trunks. Then it was all skin on skin. The cool night air quickly turned as warm as the mid-day sun as they moved against each other in a different sort of dance. She started out beneath him, her nails raking his back with every thrust. In the back of his mind, Frank worried that he was hurting her since he could hardly control the speed and depth. He was muscular and athletic but so was she. She took it and begged for more, faster, harder, deeper and when he reached his limit he rolled to his back and let her takeover on top.

Ryan could give it as hard as she took it and Frank had the vague thought that he'd be well and truly bruised come morning. It was a state he was used to, but normally getting there wasn't this much fun. She shifted suddenly and the wave tore through him. He arched up into her as his fingers dug into her thighs. Then she collapsed on top of him and they stayed that way, his heavy breathing lifting and dropping her like the hills on a roller coaster.

She spoke, but he couldn't hear her past the buzzing in his ears and when she climbed off of him he tried to protest but his brain couldn't form the words. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again she was dressed. She tossed his trunks at him then ran off. Obviously he was supposed to follow but his body had other ideas. Where the hell did she find the strength after that workout?

Groaning out loud, Frank struggled to stand, then pulled on his trunks. There was sand in places you didn't want sand to be and he was dying for a shower. . .and a bed. Right now, it was a toss-up between the two. He snatched up his t-shirt, shook it out then put it on as he walked back toward the ocean. He saw Ryan after he came around the rock jetty. She was walking along water's edge, her cover-up flapping behind her like wings. Frank shivered and this time it was from the cold night air.

Joe was still singing, but now he was accompanied by a half-drunk chorus of rowdy partiers. Frank caught his eye and Joe shook his head. Probably in response to him leaving mid-concert again or maybe he could see it all on his brother's face.

He caught up to Ryan just then, turned her around and kissed her gently.

"Walk me home?"

"Sure." Frank slipped his arm around her waist and together they climbed up the dunes to the line of beachfront apartments. Ryan, Barbie, Liz and her friend Helen were sharing the rent on place two doors down from Frank and Joe. The house in between had the couple from London and their friend, while Joes bandmates occupied the rental on the other side along with Frank's surfing buddies.

"I feel like we're living in an Annette and Frankie movie," he said when they reached her door. "Only you'd have to be the exotic vixen from Hollywood come to steal Frankie away." he expected her to laugh but instead he saw a faraway look in her eye. Not good. "Hey, whatcha thinking?"

"That life's not a movie." She kissed him quickly. "See you in the morning."

Any thought that they might go another round vanished when she stepped inside and closed the door.

* * *

><p>Joe was performing to a sold-out crowd at Madison Square Garden when he was rudely interrupted by a very cheery and annoying brother.<p>

"It's a beautiful, bright and sunny day, little bro and the waves are calling your name."

"Calling _your_ name," Joe mumbled. "They don't know my name." He yanked the pillow over his head to block out both Frank and the sunlight.

"You're going to miss seeing Liz in a tight wetsuit."

That image almost made him come out from under.

"And you're going to miss seeing your big brother show Peter and Logan who's really king of the surf."

"Not interested."

A pillow smacked him on the back. Hard. "You're the only person I know who vacations at the beach but never goes near the water."

"Hey, I saw Jaws. Twice."

"Fine. Miss out on all the fun. I guess I'll see you at lunch then."

"Lunch," Joe repeated and seconds later he was back on that stage singing to a screaming crowd made up of nothing but hot, young women.

* * *

><p>The next time Joe woke up it was after 9:00. He rolled out of bed, took his time in the bathroom then pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Next, he poured himself a glass of juice, grabbed a muffin from the box they'd bought yesterday and headed out to the patio. From here, he could see Frank and the others riding the waves.<p>

Logan was bigger than Frank, so it was easy to pick him out even at a distance. Liz, the only girl in the pack, was also easy to spot. Peter and Frank were almost interchangeable so at times, it was only the color of their wetsuits that allowed Joe to tell them apart.

He settled into a chair and kicked his feet up on the low railing enjoying the sound and smell of the surf. Even though they lived near the ocean all year round, the ocean at the beach had its own special rhythm that was both exciting and relaxing at the same time. And then suddenly Frank disappeared from view. Joe sat up in his seat and focused on the water until he saw the ocean spit his brother back on to the beach. Frank sat there for a moment, then stood and picked up his board.

Joe was about to sit back again, when he saw Frank stumble. Probably just stepped on a shell or got his foot stuck in the sucking sand. Surely nothing to be worried about. Still, Joe noticed something off about the way Frank climbed back on his board and paddled out to sea.

What he needed was a closer look. What he needed was his binoculars. Joe got up and turned to go back inside and that was when he saw the envelope taped to the sliding glass door. His name was printed on the front in neat, block letters.

Forgetting the binoculars, he tore the envelope off the glass then broke open the seal. Inside was a single folded piece of paper and a handwritten message.

Welcome to the Liars' Club. Find out who has the most to hide and maybe I'll let Frank survive.

Joe whipped his head around toward the ocean. It took all of two seconds to locate his brother among the other surfers but they were the longest two seconds of his life.

Breathe.

But that did little to quell the pain in his stomach.

He reread the note as if he might find something he'd missed the first time. There was nothing to miss. It was clear and simple. Find the liar and save Frank's life.

Maybe it was a joke. A mystery game dreamed up by their friends as a way of teasing them about their adventures. Logan liked to ride them both, calling them Sherlock Holmes and Watson and only yesterday, Liz had asked them to find her missing locket.

It had to be a game. He was sure it was a game, until Frank got hit by a huge wave and this time he didn't come up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Liars' Club: Chapter Two**

Pete and Logan were dragging Frank out of the surf by the time Joe reached the water's edge. Frank dropped to the sand on all fours, coughing and spluttering to expel the water from his lungs. At least he was breathing.

Joe knelt down beside him and laid a comforting hand on Frank's convulsing, wetsuit-covered back. "It's okay. Take a breath."

"Trying," Frank managed and even in the midst of a crisis there was a twist of humor in his voice. Another point in his favor.

Slowly a crowd began to gather around them. Barbie, the British couple, the rest of Joe's band, all expressing their concern and advice.

"He's going to be fine," Joe said a little too sharply in order to cut off the chatter. His own heart was still pounding from the rush of fear. Stupid, really, considering everything they'd gone through, all the dangers they'd faced. Falling off a surf board wasn't that big a deal, but the note haunted his thoughts.

'Maybe I'll let Frank survive.'

"Let's get you back to the house." With Joe on one arm and Logan on the other, they got Frank to his feet and from there he was able to travel under his own power. As they walked up the beach, the looky-loos fell away and Joe was glad when they were finally alone behind closed doors.

"So what happened out there?"

"I got dizzy. That's all. Probably should have had a bigger breakfast but I was anxious to hit the waves."

"You hit them all right," Joe groused as Frank disappeared into the bathroom. "You scared the heck out of me."

"Because I fell off my surfboard?" Frank called from behind the door. "I'm glad you think I'm that good but it happens. All the time."

"Yeah, but usually you surface right away. I was afraid you'd hit your head on the board or got caught in an undertow."

No response to that.

"Frank?"

The bathroom door opened and Frank stepped out sans wetsuit. He had a towel wrapped high around his waist so it just barely skimmed the top of his thigh. "What do you make of this?"

There was a red circle on his left thigh, about the size of a half dollar but all around that the skin was puffy and blotched.

"Jellyfish sting?"

"Through my wetsuit?" Frank sat down on the bed, propped his leg up then leaned down for a closer look. "Does look like a sting, though, doesn't it?" He touched the wound lightly, then gently pressed around the edges of the center circle. "I don't see anything in there."

The note.

"Frank." Joe pulled the paper out of his pocket. "I found this taped to the sliding glass door this morning." He handed it to his brother and waited for the fearful reaction. There wasn't one.

"This is why you're freaking out? It's a game. A joke."

"That's what I thought before you got dizzy and fell off your board and nearly drowned. Before I saw that mark on your leg."

Frank wasn't getting it. "And what? Someone hired a jellyfish hit man to sting me?"

"You said yourself that it couldn't be a stinger, not through your wetsuit. Which means it had to happen before you put the suit on. Like last night."

Frank sighed and raked his hand through his wet and sandy hair. "We were with our friends last night."

Joe grabbed the note back and shook it in Frank's face. "Welcome to the Liar's Club? Find out who has the most to hide? Maybe one of our friends isn't."

"That's crazy. Joe. It's a prank and it's a coincidence." Frank got to his feet and went to the dresser for fresh clothes. "What are you thinking? That someone. . . " He lost his balance and made a grab for the wall.

"That someone poisoned you? Yeah, that's what I'm thinking."

"That's insane." Frank found his center point, then opened the drawer and took out underwear, shorts and a t-shirt.

"Fine. How about this then? If it's a game, we're supposed to play. Whoever sent the note must have planted clues for us to find. It's like murder mystery dinner theater, everyone is playing a part and our part is to discover who the killer is."

Frank looked up at him, a deep frown crossing his face. "Just in case, can we say liar and not killer?"

"I'm glad you think this is funny, but I'd hang on to the shower handle if I were you so the next dizzy spell doesn't send you crashing through the shower door."

The frown deepened, but Joe could see that Frank wasn't totally convinced.

"How about I take a shower, eat something and rest on the porch for an hour. If I don't feel better after that, I go to the doctor. If I do feel better, then you stop all this nonsense."

"Okay," Joe agreed easily, because he had a horrible feeling that Frank was going to feel worse as the day went on.

* * *

><p>Barbie came by while Frank was in the shower to say that the whole gang was going to the Crab Shack for lunch. Joe passed on the invitation with the excuse that Frank wasn't feeling well after his close call with King Neptune. Not a total lie.<p>

His real motivation was something more devious. With everyone gone to lunch, he'd have time to search the other houses. Not a lot of time, since they were spread out over three rentals, but it was a start.

"You know what surprises me," Joe said later as he watched Frank eat a roast beef sandwich and chips. "That your girlfriend hasn't come by to check on you. Surely she heard about your surfing accident."

Frank rolled his eyes as he swallowed what was in his mouth. "I don't think she's too happy with me right now."

"Why?" Joe took a chip from Frank's plate. "What did you do?"

Frank's face flushed red. "Something I'd rather not discuss with my little brother."

"Well, if I don't learn it from you, I'll have to pick it up on the streets. You wouldn't want that, would you?" Joe got up, went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Coke.

"I don't know, okay. She was all hot and bothered last night and she wanted to but afterward, she was weird."

"Weird, how?" Joe popped off the top of the soda bottle then threw it in the garbage.

"Kind of quiet and then she asked me to walk her home and that was that." Frank picked up the last bite of his sandwich then put it right back down on the plate. "Oh come on. You think Ryan poisoned me while we were having sex?" And again Frank's cheeks blushed at the single mention of the word.

Normally, his discomfort would be a source of joy for Joe but not today. "I imagine she was close enough to inject something in your thigh and you probably wouldn't have even felt it if she did it at the right moment."

"Do you hear yourself? This is not a James Bond movie. Why would she do that? What possible motive could she have for trying to kill me?"

Joe picked up the note from the bed and slapped it down on the table. "Somebody has something to hide and –" He stopped at the sound of voices coming through the open sliding glass door. Liz, Logan and yes, even Ryan. They were all talking and laughing as they passed the house on the way to the parking lot.

Joe ran out to the patio to meet them. "Sorry we have to miss out," he said as he counted heads. "but we should be up for volleyball when you get back."

"Sounds good," said Pete. He'd been on the losing team against the Hardy's for three straight games and was anxious for another shot at beating them.

Joe stayed on the patio, watching until the group had rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. Suddenly Frank appeared at his side. "You're going to break into their houses while they're gone, aren't you?"

"I am not going to break in. I'm going to walk in. No one ever locks their doors around here."

"Joe. These are our friends."

"All but one of them. I'm just trying to find out which one."

* * *

><p>As much as Frank hated the idea of spying on their friends, he agreed to go along if only to keep Joe objective. He felt a little guilty anyway, since technically Joe had won their earlier bet but Frank wasn't about to admit it.<p>

Even after the shower, food and rest, he still didn't feel like himself and his injured thigh was beginning to throb. Still, he found it hard to believe that someone they knew had poisoned him. It simply was too much the stuff of spy novels.

Joe wanted to start with the girls, since his top suspect was Ryan. Frank talked him into starting in the middle with the British couple because they had been strangers up until a week ago. Fortunately, the boys had a great deal of experience searching rooms so they were well organized and systematic about it.

Ten minutes in, Frank said, "got something." He was kneeling on the floor in front of a large, open, Samsonite suitcase. The case was empty but as he ran his hands over the satin lining he felt a shifting lump underneath.

Joe came to peer over his shoulder.

"I don't want to rip the lining. . . " Frank's fingers stopped along the left side. There was a small zippered pouch for jewelry sewn into the satin. Under that was another zipper. This one opened a space between the lining and the case, big enough for him to slip his hand inside. With a little wiggling and working, he pulled out a digest-sized envelope. "Let's see what they don't want anyone else to see."

Frank opened the clasp on the envelope and dumped the contents into the open suitcase. A passport, some photos and another small booklet filled with notations and stamps. All of it in Russian. "Looks like Mrs. Evelyn Scripps is really Ekatarina Chesnokov."

"Welcome to the Liar's Club," said Joe but Frank wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to wish away the cramp in his stomach. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing but as determined as he was to keep it from Joe, he couldn't make it so.

"Damn it." He tipped back on his knees and slid down to sitting on the floor as his hand shot out in search of his brother.

"Frank? What's wrong?" Joe grabbed hold of the flailing hand and squeezed it in his own. "Talk to me."

"I can't –" The words dissolved into a moan as Frank's stomach twisted and lurched. He pressed his forehead to his knees and began silently counting backwards from 100. It was a trick he used to do when he was a kid. Count backwards while waiting for a shot at the doctor's office. Count backwards while dad pulled the splinter out of your hand. Count backwards when the stomach bug made it hard to breath. And when it got to 64, it was over.

He could hear Joe now, voicing his fears, wondering about an ambulance, praying out loud for this to pass.

"Better," Frank said as he slowly unfolded himself and took a tentative but deep breath. Joe was still clutching his hand with his right while his left spiraled circle's on Frank's back. "Damn."

"I'd go with a stronger word. Do you believe me now? This is no game."

Frank nodded as he continued to catch his breath.

"Can you get back to the house on your own?"

"No. Wait." Frank rolled to his hands and knees and Joe helped get him from there to standing. "What are you going to do? We found the liar."

"We found 'a' liar. The note said find the one with the _most_ to hide."

"And then what? How does the person who wrote the note know what you found?" Frank sucked in one more deep breath and the pain was gone. "We should talk to Evelyn and Henry when they get back. If someone is willing to poison me to get to them, then they're in danger, too."

Joe closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. I don't think we should say anything. I want to keep looking. You go home and I'll check the girl's place and then I'm taking you to the doctor."

"Fine with the doctor. But for now, I'm sticking with you."

With no time to argue the point, Joe replaced the documents they'd found, closed up the suitcase then put it back under the bed. Then he did a quick sweep to make sure everything else was as it should be before leaving the rental.

They'd chew up more than a half hour already but Joe was sure they had plenty of time for a second shot. The Crab Shack was always busy and the gang liked to linger, getting the most out of the never ending fry baskets and bottomless sodas. They had at least another half hour, but after that, they'd risk getting caught.

The girl's rental was considerably messier than the one they'd just left. Ryan, the newbie was sharing with long timers Barbie and Liz. The fourth, Helena, was Liz's college roommate. This was her third year at the beach.

"I still don't feel right about this," Frank said as he began sifting through the clothes in one of two bureaus.

"How can you say that after what you just went through? If it makes you feel better, tell yourself we're just looking for some clue to who poisoned you. We'll have a much better chance of stopping this if we know what you were injected with."

"Insane," Frank mumbled, but he kept on searching. Through the drawers, under the drawers, inside every rolled sock and padded bra.

This time it was Joe who hit pay dirt first. It was a souvenir cedar box with a picture of the beach decoupaged to the top and a tiny gold lock threaded through a small hasp. Joe easily picked the lock with a bobby pin he found on the nightstand, then he dumped the contents on the bed. At first look, it appeared to be a collection of jewelry that any woman might own. But closer inspection turned up another liar.

"That's Logan's watch. He lost it last week," said Frank.

Joe picked through the pieces and pulled out a locket. He opened it and showed Frank the pictures inside. "This is Liz's locket." Then his eyes landed on a pair of blue-studded cufflinks. "And these are mine. We have a thief in our midst."

Frank looked over the objects on the nightstand where Joe had found the box. A romance novel, a glass with a pink lipstick stain, and ponytail holders with blonde hair sticking out of them. That narrowed it down to Liz and Barbie, but Liz wouldn't have stolen her own locket. "It's Barbie. She's been stealing from all of us."

"Barbie?" Joe started loading the items back in the box. "Her father is a millionaire. She doesn't have to work a day in her life, why steal?"

"Because it's not about the money. It's about the thrill. It's about the danger of getting caught. Speaking of which. . . "

Joe glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "I know. Just two more minutes." He closed up the box and locked it, then put it back under a towel in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. "If this is Barbie's bed. . . " He made a quick survey of the other three beds in the room and then chose the nightstand that was the neatest. Ryan's.

Joe yanked open the drawers and sifted through, fast but efficient. Frank went to the nightstand on the opposite side even as he felt a new wave of nausea simmering in his stomach.

"Hey," Joe said. "Look at this." He slid a photo across the bed. Two young teens, one too fat for her bathing suit and the other too thin and flat. They had their arms around each other and they were smiling hard for the camera. "I think the skinny one might be Ryan, but don't we know that other girl?"

Frank didn't look. He was completely enthralled by whatever he'd found in the other nightstand.

And then they heard voices. The girls.

"Damn it! They're back." Joe grabbed the photo and stuffed it in the drawer with no time to make sure it was placed properly. Frank had to do the same with whatever he'd found and the two made it to the patio door with no time to spare.

"Well, this is kinky," Barbie said and they knew they'd been caught. "Going through our underwear drawers while we're gone?"

Joe almost laughed at how right she was. He turned to face the group and decided to go along with the joke. "Don't worry, we drew the line at trying any of it on."

"Now there's an image," Helena laughed, then went on about her business as if it wasn't weird to find two men snooping around her house.

"Actually," said Frank. "I wanted to leave Ryan a note but once I got here I couldn't figure out what to say." The other girls ooh and ahh'd over that but Ryan didn't crack a smile. "Can we talk in private?"

"Maybe later would be better," Joe suggested, seeing a new sheen of sweat break out on his brother's face. "He's really not feeling well." Joe tugged up on Frank's pant leg to show off the wound which was now even more discolored and puffy.

All four girls gasped at the sight and Liz looked like she might puke.

"How'd that happen?" Liz asked.

"Got stuck with something," Frank said vaguely.

"Maybe when you were rolling around in the sand last night," Barbie suggested and Frank felt a whole new flush of warmth color his skin.

Joe took hold of his arm. "We should go." He pulled on his brother and there was no resistance. They made it out of the house and half way to their place when Frank crumbled. Joe did his best to catch him, but it only resulted in both of them collapsing on to the rough boardwalk.

"What is going on?" Liz came running down the path to meet them. She stooped down by Frank's side and ran her hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "Honey, you need a doctor."

"Or just the antidote," Frank snapped back. "She had a hypodermic needle and a whole lot of drugs in her make-up kit." Getting that out took the rest of his breath away and he was left gasping for air once again.

"You went through my things!" She rose up to standing and backed away, suddenly not so interested in helping anymore. "Why would you do that? Oh, wait. You're some kind of cops, now, right? That's what this is all about? He plays sick and I offer to give him some pills and you bust me!"

"He's not pretending. He's been poisoned." As soon as it came out of his mouth, Joe debated the wisdom of shouting it where everyone could hear. He grabbed Liz by the arm and pulled her closer. "Tell me you had nothing to do with this!"

"I didn't. I don't even understand what's happening. Why were you going through my stuff if you're not a cop?"

"Joe," Frank said softly, lifting his hand for some help up.

Joe took him by the hand and the elbow and Liz took his other arm.

"Let's get him inside."

As they walked the few yards to their rental, Joe pondered then rejected the idea that Liz was involved. Of all their beach friends, she went back the furthest. They'd known each other as children, building sand castles and sharing pony rides, back when these weeks were still family vacations. But if she wasn't involved, why did she have a stash of drugs? Was that the secret the poisoner wanted him to discover?

Once inside, they carefully laid Frank on the bed and he scooted back into a sitting position with his legs stretched out in front of him. Liz went into the bathroom, ran the water for a full minute then came back with a wet washcloth which she laid over Frank's wounded leg. It was warm and heavy and it felt good on the swollen flesh.

"Now can one of you please explain what's going on here?"

Joe showed her the note but it did little to erase the confused look on her face.

"You think he was poisoned? That I poisoned him? That's like something out of a movie, who really does that?"

"We thought it was a joke at first," said Joe as he picked up the telephone and dialed O for the operator. "But he's had a couple of these attacks now."

"Stomach pains, sweats, nausea. I can feel it building up and then it hits me hard. The cramps. . . " Frank let the rest go in favor of taking a deep breath.

On the phone, Joe asked to be connected with the nearest doctor and then he went silent, listening.

Liz sat down on the other side of the bed and pulled her knee up on to the mattress so she could face Frank. "I swear to you. I didn't have anything to do with this. The drugs are mine. You have no idea the kind of pressure I'm under at school, from my folks. I need a little help getting through the day, that's all."

Frank reached out and took her hand. "Aw, Lizzie. That's no good."

"Easy for you to say. I remember your dad. He's cool. Mine? Not so much. I got a C in English last semester and he went ballistic. He makes me feel like I'm stupid and oh god, if he found out about the pills, he'd kill me. He'd pull me out of school and I don't know what. Frank, this has to be our secret."

Joe hung up the phone, then dragged a kitchen chair over to the bed. "I got the answering service. They'll get the doctor to call us as soon as they locate him."

Frank nodded, then turned back to Liz. "Look, I'm not going to condone what you're doing, but I'm not going to rat you out, either. Provided I ever get the chance."

"Oh no, Frank!" She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. "I'm so awful. You're sick and I'm worrying about me. Oh my god. I'm not like that. It's just. . . you caught me off guard."

"Could that be the answer?" Joe asked. He was sitting backwards on the chair, arms and chin propped on the high back. "Could you be the one with the most to hide?"

"I'd say Ekatarina has more at stake than Liz," said Frank.

"Who?"

"Evelyn," Joe clarified. "She's not who she says she is and by the way, I found your locket. Barbie has it along with a whole treasure chest of stolen goods."

Liz's mouth dropped open. "This is officially, the craziest thing I've ever heard."

"Just an average day for us." Frank shifted his hips forward so he could lie instead of sit and both of his nursemaids jumped to help. "I'm fine. I just ache all over." He squirmed to find a more comfortable position and then shivered from cold only he felt.

Liz took the blanket off of the other bed then unfurled it over his body. "What I don't understand is who wrote the note? Certainly not one of the people who has something to hide."

"I've narrowed it down to a suspect pool of one," said Joe and Frank frowned in response. "Ryan. She and Frank have been nearly inseparable all week but today it's like she doesn't want to have anything to do with him."

Liz cast her eyes down at the floor. "I can explain that. She lied to you, Frank and now she's worried about it."

"Welcome to the liar's club," said Joe just as Frank said, "about what?"

"She told you she's on the pill. She's not." Liz glanced Frank's way then averted her gaze again. "She wanted to be with you last night and she knew you wouldn't do it if knew there was a chance she could get pregnant."

Frank huffed out a laugh. "Least of my problems at the moment."

The phone rang and Joe ran to get it. As he talked, Liz ran her hand softly up and down Frank's arm and the motion nearly put him to sleep. Not that sleep would be bad; as long as he could be sure he'd wake up again.

Not two minutes later, Joe hung up with a frustrated growl. "The doctor is off delivering a baby somewhere!"

"The nerve of him," Frank muttered.

"The nearest hospital is about an hour from here but at least—"

"Hold it." Frank struggled to sit up right again. "Just forget it. They won't know how to treat me unless they know what kind of poison is running through my system. Our best bet is to stay here and find out who did this. We're running out of suspects, so it can't be that tough."

Joe returned to Frank's bedside but he didn't sit down. "I don't like that idea."

"I don't care. It's my life. Somebody wants something bad enough to risk going to jail for murder. I don't think they're going to let me die without a last ditch effort to find the truth."

"He's got a point," said Liz. "Someone's bound to contact you, Joe. They have to know you've been snooping around." She took Frank's hand in hers and squeezed it without paying much attention to the action. "Maybe the reason they haven't contacted you is that you haven't snooped in the right place yet."

At that, Joe did drop into the kitchen chair. "I thought of that and I hate it because the only people we haven't checked up on are Logan, Pete and the guys in my band."

"Logan and Pete saved me from drowning," Frank said, then shifted again as a new ache rumbled in his stomach.

"Or that's when one of them stuck you in the thigh. They could have left the note for me, then went surfing with you, waited until you fell off your board and . . . " Joe trailed off noting the raised eyebrow expressions on both Liz and his brother. "Doesn't work, does it?"

"Not really." Liz got up from the bed and went to the sliding glass door. It was closed, but they could still hear the sound of happy voices coming from the beach. "That leaves the band, right?"

"I can't believe that. We have to have missed something."

"What we missed," Frank said, voice faltering, "Is the person with the most to hide. Otherwise we would have heard from the poisoner by now."

Joe stood up and sighed. "If we assume that they're good for their word. What if this is all some sort of sick game and the person who wrote the note has no intention of coming forward, of giving you the antidote."

"Don't say that." Liz came away from the window then sat back down on the bed.

Frank visibly flinched at the movement of the mattress. "Go check the other house." He barely got the words out before the pain sliced through his stomach. He folded in two and instantly, both Liz and Joe had their hands on his back, trying, futilely, to offer him some comfort.

This was getting them nowhere and Frank was running out of time. Joe forced himself to step away knowing what he had to do.

"I'm going to go next door and try to get to the bottom of this. Liz, will you stay with him?"

"Sure, but. . . be careful, will you?"

"I will." Joe hesitated one more moment, his hand resting briefly on the back of his brother's neck. "Hang on, Frank. Just hang on."


	3. Chapter 3

**Liars' Club: Chapter Three**

Mickey, the bass player was sitting in the living area working on a tune while Pete sat beside him contributing ridiculous lyrics. It was just the kind of fun atmosphere that would have had Joe jumping to join in but not today.

"Guys, I need a favor," Joe said and they were both instantly captivated by the serious tone of his voice. "We've known each other a long time and I need you guys to trust me and let me do something you normally wouldn't agree to."

"Okay," Mickey answered for both of them. "What's up?"

"I need to search this house."

"For what?" Mickey asked, but before Joe could respond Pete cut in.

"Look, if it's about your stuff getting stolen, I'm pretty sure I know where you can find it."

This was news to Mickey. His gaze bobbed from Joe to Pete then back to Joe again. "We've got a thief in our midst?"

"Barbie," Pete admitted with a shrug. "She's kind of a klepto. I thought she was over it but I've heard the rumblings about stuff going missing. . . "

Joe could hardly believe his ears. "You knew about that and you didn't say anything?"

"I was supposed to rat her out to her friends? She's sick, man and she's trying to get over it. She's got daddy issues."

And I've got brother issues, Joe thought. "See, that's the problem. Secrets. Lies." He was getting off track. "I need to search the house now, with or without your permission."

"Looking for what?" Mickey asked, more perplexed than angry.

"For a killer." Joe headed straight for the bedroom and the nearest dresser drawers.

"Are you nuts?" Pete exclaimed as both boys followed. At least they weren't trying to stop him.

"Someone poisoned Frank. Probably last night at the party. I got a note saying that one of our friends is hiding a big secret. I have to find out what it is or Frank dies."

Joe tore through the first drawer, found nothing of interest then moved to the next.

"This is a joke, right?" Mickey asked, forcing out an unnatural laugh. "A prank."

"I wish. But Frank's lying in bed in so much pain he can't even breathe. Go see if I'm joking."

Second drawer held nothing but clothes. He moved on to the next as Mickey stepped into his line of vision. "Hey, man, really. This is on the level?"

Joe nodded. "I've already checked out the others and I'm not finding what I'm supposed to find. This is the last place I can look."

"You think one of us poisoned Frank?" Pete asked.

Joe slammed the last drawer shut but it got stuck on a t-shirt that wasn't flat. He shoved again and again until Mickey pulled him away and did it for him.

"No. I think one of you has the secret. One of you has to be hiding something so bad. . . " He moved to the nearest bed then sat down so he could go through the nightstand. "It's personal. It has to be. It's not petty theft or drugs. . . it has to mean something to me. Why else would the killer choose me?"

"Because everyone knows that the Hardy boys are master detectives," said Mickey. "You want to solve a mystery, you go to them."

"You go to Frank!" Joe yanked the drawer out of the nightstand and spilled the contents on the bed. "Frank's the smart one. He's the one who spots the clues. Not me. Why didn't they poison me?"

"Hey," Mickey dropped to one knee in front of Joe like he was going to propose. Any other time it would have been funny. "Listen to me, man. You're as smart as he is, just in a whole different way. If this lunatic singled you out, it was for a reason. Like maybe Frank's the one with something to hide."

Joe wanted to reject that theory instantly but logic and desperation made him give it a second thought. What if Frank wasn't just a pawn? What if Frank was being punished?

"Can't be," said Pete. "No secrets between brothers, right?"

Joe said, "right," but there wasn't a lot of conviction behind it.

"Sure," Mickey said as he gave Joe's shoulder a slap. "That's why I'm no detective. Gotta stick with my guitar. Stick with what I know." He was trying to back pedal but the seed had already been planted. "Search away, buddy. I got nothing to hide. None of us do."

And Joe really wanted to believe that, but if no one had anything big to hide then Frank was doomed and Joe might not ever know why.

BR BR BR

Joe spent more than an hour going through the house and except for a stash of porn magazines; he didn't find anything worth hiding.

Going back to square one, he confronted Evelyn Scripps and her husband. He saw the fear in the woman's eyes when he told her he knew her real identity. He heard the anguish in her husband's voice when he begged Joe not to tell. Ekaterina was a Russian athlete, who had defected during a competition in England. They were in love. And he had spent every dime he had to buy her a new identity, a new life.

It was a big secret, but somehow Joe knew it wasn't the answer.

With nowhere else to turn, Joe went back to the beach house.

Frank was asleep when he got there, which was good because he didn't think he could look him in the eye and admit defeat.

Liz hugged him tight and kissed his cheek then left them alone. She was in tears, but Joe didn't have the strength to bolster her spirits, not with his own tears threatening to fall.

Night was approaching and with it, a burst of cool sea air. It felt good at first, but Joe worried when he saw Frank shivering in his sleep. He unfurled another blanket over his brother, then went to close the sliding door.

Some of the guys had started a fire pit on the beach and he could hear soft strains of guitar music. A gathering away from the group caught his eye. It was dark and shadowy but Logan's build made him easy to pick out. But who was he talking to? Joe peered through the darkness and decided on Liz and Pete.

They were probably filling Logan in on all that had happened. He couldn't hear them but he could see Pete wrap a comforting arm around Liz then they walked back toward the fire pit.

No comfort here.

Joe went back to the bed then set his hand on Frank's forehead. His skin was cold and damp. Even in sleep, the pain was evident on his face.

One last shot.

Joe left the house then walked down the beach, keeping to the shadows so he wouldn't be noticed by the group. He dragged himself down to the water's edge then stood there and screamed into the air.

"Tell me what you want! Tell me what I can do to fix this! Please!"

"Joe."

He whirled, hoping to find the answers he needed but instead he found his brother. "What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest."

"Won't help." Frank took a step toward him, stumbled and ended up falling into Joe's arms.

Joe considered helping right him, then decided to just let go and together they dropped into the sand. Frank tried to say something but his words were washed away on a moan and the rest was covered by the heavy pounding of the surf.

"I did the best I could, Frank. I did the best I could." Joe pulled his brother into his lap and then there was no stopping the tears. The reality of what was happening was too much to bear. Second thoughts about the hospital, about the police, about taking Frank home ripped Joe's insides to shreds. He couldn't share his brother's physical pain, but the mental and emotional anguish was just as bad. With one difference. Joe was going to survive, Frank wasn't.

"I don't know what else I can do. I've looked everywhere. I've talked to everyone."

"Not everyone."

Joe's head shot up and he saw Ryan standing there, framed in the distant firelight.

"You didn't ask the one person closest to you. You didn't ask Frank about his secrets."

Frank unfolded himself and took a breath so he could speak. "You did this to me? How could you? After what we did?"

"Poisoning you was easy. Blood was rushing through your body so hard, you never even felt it. Letting you touch me was the hard part. Knowing what you'd done. It's different when the girl's pretty. Isn't it? It's no joke unless she's fat. And you tell yourself she wants it, so it's not really rape, is it?"

"What are you talking about?" Joe asked, anger slowly simmering away the tears. "Frank would never force himself on anyone."

"Says the little brother who idolizes his big brother. The truth is, he's a pig. He ruined Mandy's life and didn't give it a second thought. Him and his cool friends. Humiliating her like that. Destroying any chance she had of being happy."

"The picture." Frank struggled up to his hands and knees but he couldn't get up from there. "In her drawer. Mandy."

Joe flashed back to the photo they'd found. Ryan with a chubby young woman.

"Haven't seen her since I was fifteen," Frank folded again and landed flat on his back in the sand. "Never touched her."

"You did!" Ryan reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "She kept the note. Can you believe it? Even after you and your friends raped her and humiliated her, she kept it because it was the only connection she'd ever have to you." She threw the paper at Frank. It landed on his shoulder then the wind caught it but Joe plucked it from the air.

Mandy,

Meet me under the pier at midnight. I can't wait to touch you, kiss you. It will be our night.

Frank

"This isn't his handwriting. He didn't write this note."

"He was fifteen and horny and his friends were laughing while he wrote it out. I imagine that might have affected his handwriting, don't you think? He lured her out to the pier and they took turns with her. Him and another guy and a girl. Can you believe that? A girl helped him do this."

"I didn't." Frank cried out as his body convulsed with a new level of pain. "I swear. I didn't touch her. I wouldn't ever –"

"Liar!" Ryan ran at him so fast Joe barely had time to catch her and still she bucked and kicked at her target. "You bastard!"

"Do you have the antidote?" Joe screamed in her ear.

"Yes! But he's not getting it unless he confesses."

"And if he does, you'll give it to him?"

"Yes!"

"Why?" Frank ground out. "Why save me?"

"Because living with the truth is much worse than dying. Your friends, your brother, they'll never be able to look you in the eye again. And maybe when you get tired of being shunned and alone, you'll kill yourself like Mandy did. Bastard!"

She threw herself forward at Frank and Joe countered tossing her back into the sand. "Frank. Tell her what she wants to hear." He dropped to his brother's side. "Tell her you did it and she'll stop it."

"No! I didn't do it!" Frank folded in on himself, arms wrapped tightly around his cramping stomach. "I won't lie just to live."

"That's stupid! God damn it! Frank, just tell her! Say you raped that girl!"

"No! I didn't do it!"

"I did it." Joe whipped around and saw Pete, Logan and Liz. "We did it," Pete continued. "It wasn't supposed to . . . we weren't supposed to go so far but we were high and it got out of control."

Ryan stumbled back as if she'd been punched. She looked at the group then back at Frank and Joe in the sand. "No. He was in on it. He wrote the note."

"I wrote the note," said Pete. "I signed Frank's name because we knew she had a crush on him. It was a big joke, that she thought someone like him could want her. Even back then, we kinda looked alike so in the dark, she probably thought it was him. But it was me."

"It was all of us," Liz said through a new torrent of tears. "And I've hated myself for it every day since. I swear. If I could do that day over, I would have stopped the boys. I swear, I would have. Now please, please don't let Frank die for what we did."

Ryan stared at the group for a moment, probably wondering who to believe.

"Meet me under the pier at midnight. It will be our night," said Pete, repeating the words from the note. "There was a little more, but that's most of it. I'm telling you, Frank wasn't involved. That was all me."

Ryan moaned softly, then she reached her hand down inside her shirt and pulled out a small liquor bottle like you get on a plane. She tossed it in the sand in front of Joe. "That'll help. The poison is in a small perfume bottle in my nightstand."

A bottle Joe had touched while searching Ryan's things. He snatched up the liquor bottle, twisted off the cap then helped Frank drink what was inside.

"Tell the doctors to give him Pralodixime, 30 milligrams."

"I'll call an ambulance," said Liz then she ran back toward the houses.

Logan stepped forward to help with Frank but Joe waved him away. "I can take care of him myself." Joe got his arm under Frank's shoulder then lifted him to his feet. Moving slowly, they made their way back up the beach.

In the back of his mind, Joe knew he should do something about Ryan and maybe even his three friends, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Getting Frank back to normal was all that mattered. Until then, he wasn't going to think about anything else.

* * *

><p>Joe paused outside of his brother's hospital room and pushed back the wave of emotion that threatened to overtake him, again. Frank was on his way to a full recovery but the close call was still playing on his nerves. He sucked in a deep breath, then pushed open the door.<p>

Frank was sitting up in bed, hooked up with too many wires and tubes to be comfortable, but still he smiled at the sight of his brother.

"Where have you been?"

"I had to go to down to the police station to help sort out this mess." Joe stepped up to the side of the bed and gripped the raised metal railing. "They've got Ryan in custody and the Sheriff said he'd come by to take your statement tomorrow, when you're feeling better."

Frank's smile faded into a thin-lipped frown. "She was quite the little actress. I really thought she cared about me, but I guess that was the point. What about Liz and the guys?"

"The Sheriff interviewed them and then let them go. It'll be up to the DA if he wants to press charges but it's tough. They were juveniles, Mandy's gone. If they decide to change their story there's not much the DA can do."

"I guess. It's weird. They're our friends and I don't want to see them go to jail but . . . "

"I know. Liz told me that she considered reporting what they'd done a dozen times after that day. It's part of the reason she started popping pills, to erase the guilt. She's going to talk to her dad about rehab."

"Wow, that'll be a tough conversation."

"Yeah, but I think she's ready to go there." Joe set his hand on Frank's shoulder then just as quickly pulled it away. "I was really scared, Frank. I kept thinking that I'd made a mistake. That I should have forced you to go to the hospital or that I should have called the police. I thought—" Joe leaned forward to hug his brother but the railing and the IV line made it awkward at best. "I thought you were going to die. I don't know what I would have done if—"

"Hey, you did good. Better than good." Frank lifted his hand and weakly took hold of Joe's arm. "I never doubted you'd get me through this. But there is one thing I'd like to know. The truth."

"About what?"

"When Ryan showed you the note and told you what happened to Mandy. Did you ever, even for an instant, think I did it?"

"No. Never. You would never hurt someone like that and besides, we're brothers and brothers don't keep secrets from each other." Joe believed it to be true and he hoped it always would be, but in the back of his mind he couldn't help wondering if someday, sometime, even he and Frank would become members of the Liars' Club.

**The End**


End file.
